Party Pooper
by DeepLittleSOB
Summary: It's New Year's Eve, 2005. Dean is visiting his brother, Sam, at college and he drags the two of them to a club to ring in the new year right... even if Sam does NOT want to go. AT. ALL.


**Author Note: Happy New Year, everyone! After being absent since April (I'm seriously embarrassed and horrified), I decided to screw everything else and do something for me today and (hopefully) going forward continue to do the same. I will be selfish with my time now and then and say F you to my responsibilities! I need more me time. Therefore, I dusted off a little piece I started two years ago to stretch my creativity and get out of cannon writing. Here's what I was able to edit, tweek, and finish today. I feel like it's a little incomplete but I don't care. I'm just happy to be posting again. This is for everyone that kept tabs on me this year, people who messaged now and then to check in and see how I was when I was no where to be found for far too long. I appreciate you dearly.**

**This is a fluffy and pointless AU of my AU. You don't need to know anything before reading it. Enjoy it and thank you all!**

* * *

New Year's Eve, 2005

"Dean, this place is lame!" Sam yells over the pulsing, insanely loud music just fifteen minutes into arriving at what can only be considered a club. "Let's just get outta here!"

"And go where!?" Dean yells back to his younger brother as he squeezes himself into a spot at the bar. The place is packed to the gills to ring in the New Year and not a single soul looks to be over the age of 22. "It's Boston. It's New Year's Eve. Every place is already at capacity and we paid a damn near fortune to get in here."

"But it's…."

"Lame, yeah! I heard ya!" Dean complains as he waves to a bartender. No luck. He keeps walking in a mad rush to fulfill the many party-goer's drink orders. He then waves at the cute bartender at the other end of the long bar. She only glances and doesn't react, back to work making what looks to be a whole tray of cosmos.

"We can't even get service…" Sam starts his tirade and is interrupted when he's shoved in the back by an equally tall guy walking by. He regains his balance and groans, frustrated. "We're like sardines in here!"

"And what do you suggest we do instead, party pooper!?" Dean glances over his shoulder at him.

"Go back to my apartment!? Drink there!?" he offers his idea up, his tone making it clear that he much prefers this idea.

"And when was the last time you got out of that apartment!?"

"I go out every day!"

"Okay… when was the last time you got out and _didn__'t _go to campus!?"

As the hard hitting music thumps in his chest, lights flashing all around, he realizes something. "I don't know."

"You see, that's why I came here to ring in the New Year with you! I knew you'd become a shut in since Jess dumped your ass…."

"It was mutual!" Sam shouts at his older brother, reminding him for the hundredth time that day that his former girlfriend and he split amicably.

"And that you'd need a little push back into society!" Dean then smiles and pushes Sam in the chest with his index finger once for fun. "And now, here we are!" He opens his arms up and looks around.

Sam's eyes follow. "We're at a douchey club with too many drunk people listening to…?" He can't even name the current top 40 hit playing.

"The Pussycat Dolls!"

With Dean's answer, Sam pauses and just stares for a moment to process what just happened. "What!?"

"What?" Dean asks, embarrassed that he let a little information about his sometimes musical preferences he'd prefer to keep quiet.

"How do you know that!?"

"Doesn't matter!" Dean shakes off the misstep, . "You're here! Like it or not, life brought you here right now! So, you can mope and bitch and ruin the night… or you can drink and talk to women and have a little fun!"

Sam stares at Dean with dislike, his face unmoving.

"I'm only here for a few days, man! Come on!"

Sam rolls his eyes.

"Oh my god! Sam! Unbunch! Please! One night!" Something changes in Dean's face with this plea. There's the usual charm that works on practically everyone but his brother… but there's something more. It's sad behind the mask. There's a clear desperation for fun in there.

His brother needs this.

"Fine!" Sam relents, being greeted with a massive smile and a sparkle in his big brother's eyes that he hasn't seen in a very long time. He hates this place, he hates what they're doing… but it'll be worth it if Dean can be this happy.

"Yes! Alright!" Dean cheers and grabs Sam's shoulders, shaking him with the excitement he's feeling. "Then that settles it! Drinks on me!" He pats Sam lightly in the cheek twice and turns to the bar. He frowns immediately. "If I can get a bartender's attention, that is…."

"Hey!"

Both brothers turn to look at the voice very loudly calling for them. They see a bar-top table of four women, all with too much sparkle to their style and wearing gaudy New Year's party paraphernalia. They look to the one with clearly bleached hair, the dark roots growing in.

"You can come drink with us!" she yells. "Looks like you could use a few!"

Dean's face brightens with glee and he quickly glances at Sam, eyebrows lifting once. He then looks right at the bottle-blonde and merrily answers, "Could we ever!"

Dean bolts for the table, nearly skipping with joy, and Sam sighs. He's going to be forced to sit with the four girls, all looking more than tipsy already and, he knows he shouldn't judge but they're practically flashing signs of desperation.

This is not how he planned to ring in the New Year. He wanted to be alone, a few beers and a good book by his side. He'd chill on the couch, maybe watch the ball drop and call it an early night. Granted, it might turn into a pity party as he laments the end of his three-year relationship with Jessica, but oh well. He still needed time. Four months isn't all that long… right…?

The countdown starts and Sam sighs heavily. He's tipsy off of whatever it is these girls keep passing them. The drinks they buy aren't great, too fruity for his taste, but Dean didn't seem to mind so he didn't argue. He just sat and pretended to listen to what the girls are telling him, all while wishing to be elsewhere.

Dean is now sitting in one of the stools at the table, the bottle-blonde in his lap. Kelly was it? Maybe Kylie? He can't remember. He'd bet his next paycheck that Dean can't remember either.

Everyone around them raises their drinks and counts down from 20. Dean's locked eyes with the Kelly/Kylie girl and he's done for the night. Sam knows his brother well enough.

And now he's worried. The girl next to him that's talked his ear off and has the most annoying laugh he's ever heard keeps looking at him and scooting closer. He knows she's looking for her midnight kiss.

He's not into it.

He told her earlier he didn't like traditions like the New Year's kiss. It's cliché and so fucking lame. She seems to have forgotten that conversation.

10…

Breaking up his thoughts, he sees from about 20 feet away a woman walking closer. Her hand is locked into a dark haired woman's hand following behind her.

9…

She's beautiful. Big blue eyes and long blond hair. Pouty lips and a slight scowl. She isn't having that much fun either.

8…

She sees him as she comes closer. Their sights lock.

7…

The scowl changes and turns a little darker, almost predatory, as her path changes slightly. Instead of appearing to be headed around their table, it looks like she and her companion are aiming for him.

6…

She's closer. Sam swallows hard, turning his body away from the table and towards her. He can't help but look at her. She's stunning in her short, all black dress and her satin top hat for the occasion.

5…

She's smirks at him. She's definitely headed right for him.

4…

Sam stands up. He doesn't know why. His body just does it before he can stop it.

3…

The woman lets go of her friend's hand.

2…

She stands in front of him and her hands reach up for him. He instantly grabs her hips.

1…

She pulls his face down to hers.

"Happy New Year!"

The entire place shouts, confetti flies, and noise makers sound off. But Sam notices none of it.

The moment their lips touch, everything gets shut out. He just feels this petite woman with a hell of a bold streak kissing him. Her hands are soft and her mouth moves without the attack he thought was coming… and it's perfect.

He kisses her back and forgets everything. The shitty night, the terrible company, his brother's decision making… everything is gone. It's just him and this mystery woman that has him getting lost in a simple kiss.

They go on for a few seconds, getting a little lost, until the woman pulls away. His eyes open after a second-long delay and she smiles at him. "Happy New Year, handsome."

Sam smiles back, eyes wide. "It is now."

She laughs lightly, clearly adoring him in the few quick seconds they got together. Then, she grabs her friend's hand and they head for the door.

"Thanks!" she shouts over her shoulder and they book it.

"Wait!" Sam shouts after realizing this girl, this amazing girl, is leaving. He tries to weave his way through the crowd and catch up, but this girl is small, her friend too, and Sam is not. He loses them in the large area of the club, the bright, blinking lights and loud music making it impossible.

In the middle of the dance floor, Sam frantically looks around. She's gone. He lost her.

There was something there, something he didn't know he could find in a single, quick kiss. It was electric in the most lame, hackneyed way. It was everything people write shitty romance novels about.

And she's now gone.

Sam walks out into the main room of his small Boston apartment at a little after ten in the morning on New Year's Day. He's tired still but at least he's not sick. He stopped drinking early enough last night to avoid that. He came home alone, leaving Dean to do his thing with the girls they drank with and a copy of his apartment key. He's just hoping his brother didn't get so drunk he couldn't find his way back.

Sam stops in the living room and grins. Well, nothing to worry about.

Dean's face down on the second-hand couch, his clothes from the night before still on along with his boots. His hair is everywhere. He has Mardi Gras beads still around his neck and a cardboard top hat exclaiming 'Happy New Year' across the front is on the floor just under where his head lays.

Unable to help himself, Sam kicks Dean's boot-clad foot that's hanging off the edge of the furniture and shouts, "Good morning, Vietnam!"

"Ah! What!?" Dean shouts and jumps, coming into consciousness in possibly the worst way for a still partially drunk, quickly becoming hung-over man. Then he hears Sam laughing. "Oh, fuck you, man," Dean groans and shuts his eyes against the sunlight in the room. He presses his face back into the decorative pillow under his head.

"Good night?" Sam laughs a little more and heads for the open kitchen.

"Awesome night," Dean says, muffled by the pillow. "Bad morning."

"I can see that," Sam smiles, happy that his older brother is able to find such fun while on some of his few days off. "Coffee?"

"All the coffee. And a brain transplant."

Sam grins as he sets up his coffee machine. "What happened to you after I left?"

"Well," Dean grumps and grunts as he pushed himself into a seated position. He squints as his eyes adjust, head throbbing. "I drank more."

"Obviously."

"And I left with Abby."

"The tall blonde?"

"Yep," Dean nods.

"She was cute," Sam shrugs, thinking she was alright at best. Dean could have done better but he wasn't looking to work all that hard at it last night. Then it dawns on him. "Wait, I thought her name was Kylie."

"Nah, Abby… I think. Shit, was it Kylie?"

"I thought so."

Dean sighs as he toes off his shoes and rubs him face. "Well, that makes things way more awkward."

"Should I ask?"

"No."

Sam just laughs at that, pressing the button to start the coffee maker. "So, you went home with her?"

"Yeah. Went to her place. She was… uh, boring," Dean nods, recalling his night. "Nothing to talk about. Nothing to… say. At all."

"You were looking for conversation?" Sam questions knowingly as he reaches high into a cupboard, pulling out a hidden box of donuts he purchased the day before in preparation for Dean's arrival. Sam will make himself some egg whites with avocado and wheat toast. Dean will probably eat three donuts before passing out again. To each their own.

"Well, no… not last night at least," Dean admits. "God, she was bland though. Even boring in bed."

"TMI."

"Prude," Dean name-calls with zero gusto. "Eh, I don't know…."

Sam pauses and looks at his brother. Dean has a far-off look, like he's attempting to think through the clouds of yesterday's alcohol. "What don't you know?"

"Hm?" Dean comes to and stares back at Sam.

"What don't you know? You said you don't know and just kinda… drifted."

"Yeah, uh," Dean pauses and rubs the back of his neck. "I'm gonna be thirty soon. Like, really soon."

"Uh-huh," Sam responds with narrowed eyes, not seeing the correlation yet as he leans his butt back into the kitchen counter. He faces Dean and crosses his arms, listening.

"You know Benny just had his first kid last month?" Dean mentions to Sam.

"You didn't tell me Andrea was pregnant! That's great!" Sam smiles.

"It is," Dean nods honestly. "And Cass has been dating someone seriously for a while now… will probably marry this one. Which is good, because I actually _like_ this one…."

"Seriously?" Sam asks, knowing Dean's been very critical of his best friend's choice in girls in the past.

"Yeah," Dean huffs a laugh, still surprised himself.

"That's good, but where you going with this?" Sam presses him.

"Maybe… maybe I shouldn't be looking for quick and boring anymore?" Dean tries to explain.

"Is that a question?" Sam lightly laughs at him.

"More of an observation, I guess."

The room gets silent and it stays silent for too long. Dean looks over to his brother to see him faking a heart attack, clutching his chest.

"Asshole," Dean insults.

"Sorry," Sam chuckles as the coffee maker beeps. "Wasn't prepared to hear you say anything like that. I mean, you _are_ kind of a whore."

"Dick!"

"Deny it," Sam challenges, eyeing Dean. His brother says nothing in response since he really can't. "So, that's why I didn't expect to hear that you want to look for something serious."

"We all gotta grow up sooner or later," shrugs Dean. "And, seriously, no chicks are gonna want to be picked up by the old guy at the bar. Probably should lock down some hottie, get some on the regular without having to try, before these good looks fade. Am I right?"

"Boy, you're gonna bag a winner with that attitude," Sam jokes, pouring coffee for them both.

"Hey, if I'm gonna have sex with one woman every night for the rest of my life… she's gotta be hot."

"Then you gotta learn how to be good to women. Hot women can have anyone. You gotta be good to the right one to keep her happy with you," Sam grins as he takes the mugs and the box of donuts to the coffee table. He places them there and watches as Dean smiles wide.

"Aw, Sammy. I knew you loved me," Dean smirks, diving for the box and yanking it open. He has a bite of donut in his mouth immediately, powder all over his face.

"See, now that's not at all how you get yourself a good woman," Sam laughs. "Table manners, dude."

"We're sitting at a coffee table."

"Still a table."

"Shut up," Dean bitches through the pastry in his mouth. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Sam wonders, confused.

"You looking?" Dean asks, swallowing his bite. "I mean, the thing with Jess ended, like, months ago. Maybe you're the one that needs a good one-nighter."

"I'm…" Sam starts but pauses. His mind jumps immediately to the girl from last night. She was petite and beautiful, her long blonde hair, her perfect lips and the perfect kiss they shared… that girl would make him want to get out there again. She's gone though. Boston's not big but it's big enough for him to be realistic about never finding her again. "I'm taking it day by day. If someone comes along, then great. If not… whatever, man."

Dean nods, mouth once again full of donut. "Solid plan, if you ask me."

"Just eat your breakfast and recover, huh?" Sam laughs and gets up to make himself something healthier. "I have to work a few hours this afternoon. Then we can grab dinner tonight. You need to be able to eat real food by then."

"I'll be able to eat," Dean scoffs at the idea, one donut already down and he's reaching for another. "I can always eat."

Midday, bored out of his mind, Dean leaves Sam's apartment in search of something to do. This is his only time off from his current two jobs back home while he's about to start his third semester into his journey towards his bachelor's degree. He hasn't taken time off in nearly five years, money being so necessary and always a burden. So, even if Sam is only working for a couple hours, and even if he still feels pretty hung over, Dean's not going to sit around waiting on some weird smelling secondhand couch on New Year's Day.

He's going out.

As he walks the streets of Cambridge, he quickly realizes he has a couple options. Food or drinks. He doesn't want to head into a bookstore or any of the other shops he's already deemed too trendy. And he's not ready to drink yet again. He may drink a lot, but even he has his limits.

It hits like a perfectly roasted brick to the face. The smells of fresh ground coffee and flaky crust fills the air. He looks around immediately, stopping mid-stride on the sidewalk to check out where it might be coming from.

His eyes land on the massive storefront window for Darwin's. It looks cozy enough and the smells are perfect.

Screw it. He's in the vicinity of Ivy League greatness. He's going to the typical coffee shop just like all the future rich douche bags of America in the area.

Dean walks in, the usual calming music playing softly and the lighting dim enough to be cozy but bright enough to see well feeling just about right. Marching to the counter, Dean orders a large black coffee and a slice of strawberry rhubarb pie on autopilot. No thought needed. This is exactly what he needed today. Within a couple minutes, he has his snack and is looking for a place to sit.

Shit. The café is packed. Not a single table free. He should have looked around before ordering.

As he scans the room, his eyes stop on one person. A woman. A beautiful woman. She's looking down at an open text book, a highlighter bit between her straight white teeth as her brow furrows with concentration. Her long, dark brown hair is covered by a slouchy gray knit hat. The old, tan, way-too-big-on-her cardigan makes her looks quite comfortable and her navy, thick rimmed glasses suit her somehow perfectly. He's never been into that whole nerdy look… but this girl is changing his mind quickly. When she pulls the highlighter out of her mouth and pops the cap, Dean makes a decision. He has to meet this woman.

Walking over while she highlights a passage in her text book, Dean clears his throat and stops next to her small table for two.

He waits. She doesn't look up.

He clears his throat again, hoping she'll look up.

Nothing.

"Wow, you're really into that book," Dean comments with a lighthearted tone and grins wide.

She keeps reading for another few seconds before blinking once and turning her face up to see who is interrupting him. Her expression is blank. "I am."

"I don't think I've ever been that into a text book before in my life." Dean swallows hard but keeps grinning as warmly as he can, already feeling the 'no' coming his way.

"Maybe you just haven't read the right text books then," she answers in a still even tone.

"Maybe you're right," Dean nods. He then looks to the empty seat cross from her. "You mind if I join you?"

"I'm studying," she quickly informs him and looks back down at her text book.

Shit. He's getting nowhere. "I'm not trying to interrupt that. It's just that… this place is packed and I just need a place to eat some pie and recharge after a long night."

She sighs, looking back up at him with unimpressed eyes.

"I'll be quiet as a church mouse."

"Fine. Sit down," she smiles lightly and goes back to her work.

With excitement, Dean takes a seat in the open chair across from her and places his small plate with a slice of pie and his oversized red ceramic coffee mug onto the small corner of the table not taken up by notebooks, text books, a laptop, and several writing utensils and Post-It notes in different neon colors.

She wasn't joking. This girl is already back to work, ignoring him completely.

Dean shrugs. He's struck out before while trying to chat up women. No one bats a thousand. So, he brushes it off and picks up his fork. Cutting a bite, he pops it into his mouth and chews.

"Mm," he loudly hums. He can't help it. This pie is damn good. So good that when he takes another bite he moans again without really knowing he's doing it.

"Good pie?"

It's when the woman he's sharing a table with asks a question without looking up that he realizes he's been moaning over pastry. He smiles with embarrassment as he answers around his half-chewed food, "Yes."

This makes the girl glance up at him. When she sees the flakes on his lip and the slight flush of embarrassment on his face, she smiles with genuine delight. "I've been coming here for three years and I've never tried it."

"You should have," Dean tells her once he swallows. "It's pretty magical."

"Magical?" she scoffs and puts down her pen, hands folded on the tabletop. "I didn't peg you to be the type of person to use such a word."

"Why not?" Dean asks.

"You seem very… manly," she cautiously says. "Or at least you try to act that way."

"You saying I'm not manly?" Dean challenges, playfully lifting an eyebrow.

"Not at all. I don't know you," she responds easily. "But… you strike me as a man that prides himself in his manliness."

"Didn't know I was being judged while trying to eat some pie on one of my days off. If I'd known, I wouldn't have sat here."

"Please," she grins and sits back in her chair. "We all judge each other at all times. We are programmed to judge a book by its cover. It's been one of the devices we've used since the beginning of man to keep us safe and away from those that wish to harm us. Of course, it's not exactly a useful tool these days and it's generally accepted that we shouldn't judge by appearance anymore… but it's in our DNA."

Dean's wide eyes stare back at her for a beat before saying, "So… you're a liberal arts major."

She laughs. It's the first time she's loosened up completely and the light sound of her voice laughing is airy and beautiful. He feels a little jump in his chest at it.

She shakes her head with amusement, her long brown hair swaying a little. She crosses her arms and smiles at him. "I'm a society and social change major with a minor in woman's studies."

"Whoa," Dean huffs an intimidated laugh. "Smart and opinionated. I'm in over my head already."

"Yes, you are," she grins. "But most men are when it comes to opinionated women. Society has made you all feel like you need to lead and always speak louder and harder than the fairer sex. That's not your fault."

"Oh, man," Dean laughs. "I'm not going to be able to carry on a conversation with you. You're way smarter than me."

"I thought you were going to be a church mouse?"

"Hey, _you_ started talking to _me_," Dean fights back.

"No, _you_ started moaning obscenely and _I_ wasn't given any other choice than to pay attention."

Nodding, Dean tells her, "Fair enough. I'll stop moaning."

"That's a shame," she grins and Dean swears he sees something almost flirtatious in her eyes. "And I'm not that smart. I'm just willing to work hard to get what I want."

"And that is?" Dean asks, not realizing that he's putting his fork down and taking a pie break.

"I want to be a civil rights attorney," she says with pride. "I want to make the law work for the people as it was meant to. I want citizens to have their rights upheld and I want everyone in this country to feel like they belong here and that they're heard."

Dean's heart skips a beat with her determination. "That's… awesome." He laughs because he doesn't know what else to say at first. "You're gonna take the world by its balls."

"Or ovaries. I'm pretty sure Mother Earth is a woman," she grins and, when Dean looks too flustered to respond, she extends her hand. "My name's Lizzy."

"Dean," he grins back and shakes.

"Nice to meet you, Dean," she tells him honestly and takes her hand back. She eyes him over once. "Tell me, how are _you_ going to change the world?"

"Well, it won't be as impressive as your way but… I'm gonna teach. I want to be a teacher." Telling her this makes him smile. He's proud of his choice in future career. It may have taken him forever to figure it out, and just as long to get started on the right path, but he's doing it.

Lizzy laughs. "Honestly, I would have never guessed."

"No?"

"No. But that's a great choice you've made. And you're definitely going to change the world. If we don't have our education, what do we have?"

"Absolutely nothing," Dean smiles in return.

"You're absolutely right," Lizzy nods. "Some of my past teachers have been the greatest influences in my life."

"Yeah. That and I'm immature so kids and I get along pretty well. They're my kinda people," Dean smirks. It is true, however.

"Oh, so you want to teach younger kids?" Lizzy pries further, clearly very curious.

"Uh, I was thinking middle school age," he lets her know.

"Oh, god," she outright laughs. "That age is the worst! The insecurity, the viciousness… they're just a bunch of horny, smelly, evil beings. And you want to work with that out of choice?"

Dean narrows his eyes at her. "You hated middle school, huh?"

"That obvious?" she nods.

"You seem a little bitter," Dean responds.

"I just remember it well, that's all. That age group is very, very tough. You must be too if you want to work with that age, that's all."

"Hey, I can hack it," Dean nods with a little too much confidence.

"Then, best of luck to you!" she laughs and stares at him a moment. "I'm not getting any work done. You're very distracting."

"I'm sorry," Dean looks down at his pie. "I can finish this quick and get outta your hair then."

"No, no," Lizzy quickly stops him, reaching out to grab his wrist as he grabs his coffee to leave her alone. "Stay. I can do this later."

"Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to be the reason why you fail," Dean very quickly and honestly lets her know.

"I still have another week and a half before the semester even starts," she explains it away. "I have to hand in my thesis for graduation this year and I was just getting a head start."

"Whoa," Dean laughs at her right away. "You're a goody-good, huh? I bet you never got an F in your life either, am I right?"

Lizzy takes her hand back, slightly offended. "What is so wrong with good grades?"

"Nothing… except that, in my experience, the straight A students never have any fun. That's all."

"What if I just know how to balance out my life really well?" she arches an eyebrow at him.

"Do you?" Dean challenges right back.

"I'll have you know that I was out late last night ringing in the New Year with my best friend," Lizzy says with confidence. "In fact, we didn't even get back to our apartment until two this morning."

"Rebel," Dean makes fun.

"And what did you do last night, mister straight-D's-but-has-fun?"

"Well, you pegged me there," Dean laughs. "But, for your information, I get good grades now. I've straightened up and I'm currently flying right."

"Good to know," Lizzy nods, smirking at him with clear interest.

"And last night I went with my brother to some lame ass club, drank way too much, made some new friends… and I can't really remember what time I got back in this morning."

"New friends, huh?" Lizzy asks.

"Yes. A couple."

"You make a lot of new friends, Dean? That a regular thing for you?" she grills him, trying to figure out what kind of guy she's talking to.

Dean swallows hard. He can't outright tell her the truth, so how does he answer that one? "Sometimes I do. But… I'm currently looking for more than that."

"What, you woke up today and decided to get real?" Lizzy scoffs.

"Uh… actually. Yeah," Dean outright laughs at his own answer.

"Yeah, okay, dude," Lizzy answers back and starts to pack up her stuff. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Dean. But I'm not looking for temporary friends."

"Oh, come on!" Dean calls out. "Don't just leave now. We were having a lovely conversation…."

"And I understand where you meant for it to go now…."

"Would you at least stay until I finish my pie!?" Dean pleads quickly, desperate to get her to stay. She's different and he's very, very interested. "I'm not asking you to sleep with me. I'm asking you to talk to me."

Lizzy freezes her movements at that. He's right and she knows it. "Okay." She then drops her now packed oversized shoulder bag onto the floor and settles once more into her seat.

"Okay?" Dean questions, surprised.

"Yeah."

"You're just gonna stay?"

"And talk to you, yes." She folds her arms across her chest again.

"I must be very persuasive," Dean says with pride.

"Or… you made me see that I was judging you pretty hard," Lizzy spills the truth. "I… have made bad decisions in the past… concerning men. And now, I have the tendency to judge the shit out of the men that I meet. That isn't fair and I like to hold myself to a higher standard than I just showed. So… I'm sorry."

"You should never judge a book by it's cover," he wags an accusatory finger at her jokingly.

"Just calling me out on my flaws," she grins back.

Dean's eyes narrow as he stares across at her. "Huh."

"What?"

"You're fascinating," Dean tells her.

"I bet you tell all your _friends _that," Lizzy laughs at him.

"No… actually, I don't. And maybe that's the problem," Dean explains. "None of my new friends are ever interesting or fascinating. Fascinating is good."

"Good," Lizzy grins.

Dean really likes this girl. And he can't remember the last time he's met a woman and felt like this, felt compelled to see more of her. A lot more. And not purely in a sexual way.

"Look, I'm only in Boston for about four more days. My little brother's going to Harvard and I'm visiting him…."

"Here we go," Lizzy says but smiles with a wink, letting him know she's kidding.

"I want to take you to dinner," Dean admits, shocking even himself with his words. "And that's it. Maybe a drink after if we have a good time. And then I send your ass packing."

"That's lovely," Lizzy giggles, Dean enjoying that sound more every time he hears it.

"I'm not looking for a hookup, okay? I want to make sure you get that. And… if I get to spend some time with one cool ass chick before I return to Kansas for the next semester, then lucky me."

Grinning to herself, Lizzy looks at him. She studies his face for a few second before answering, "I'd love to get dinner with you, Dean."

Dean's bright, wide smile is unstoppable. "Awesome."

Sam smiles as he opens his apartment door. His short day working at Harvard's library is over, he's got another week off with a few more shifts to do, and tonight he's going to hang out with his brother and grab dinner. They'll probably go to a dive with greasy food then binge a show or watch movies all night. It'll be like when they were young. And best friends. Sam's move halfway across the country put a strain on their relationship but he's so glad Dean's here and he can try and get that back again. He's missed that.

"Dude! I gotta cancel our plans!"

The shouted words hit him hard as he walks through his door. Sam's face is already wrinkled in confusion. "Huh?" he yells back and shuts his front door.

"I can't do dinner," Dean explains as he walks into the main room from Sam's bedroom. He's buttoning up a shirt and his hair is damp. "I got a date." He grins wide with excitement.

"Wait… what?" Sam asks, nothing processing in his brain.

"I got a date!" he repeats and shakes out his damp hair. "This shirt too big on me?"

Scanning the two sizes too big button-down Dean's attempting to make look nice, Sam nods. "You're swimming."

"Shit!" Dean complains and heads back into the bedroom, tossing the shirt off. "I didn't pack anything nice and your gigantor clothes don't fit perfect sized me."

Choosing to ignore the insult, Sam follows to the doorway of his own bedroom as he observes Dean tearing his closet apart. "So… you're skipping out on dinner with me to go on a date?"

"Yeah… I know," Dean laughs incredulously yet with excitement as he pulls out another shirt, looks at it, makes a disgusted face, and drops it on the carpet at his feet.

"I thought you didn't like that girl from last night."

"I didn't."

"So, why bother hanging out with her again?"

"I'm not."

Sam sighs and crosses his arms, leaning a shoulder into the door frame. "When the hell did you find the time to meet another girl?"

"I went to that stupid trendy coffee shop a couple blocks down while you were being a geek."

"Working at the library," Sam corrects.

"Same thing," Dean brushes aside. "I sat down at this girl's table, we talked, I asked her to get dinner with me, she said yes."

Sam wants to get pissed off, but he can't. Dean's grin is ear to ear and more genuine than he's seen in ages. "You don't really do dates all that often, Dean."

"I know, right?" Dean scoffs at the idea still.

"Why are you taking a girl from Boston on a date?" Sam has to ask. "I mean, you're leaving in a couple days. Probably won't be seeing her again after…."

"I don't know," Dean shrugs with annoyance. "We talked for almost an hour over coffee and I just… I didn't want that to be the last I saw of her."

"What's so special about her?" Sam keeps pushing, almost out of sheer morbid curiosity. Dean never opens up like this. He wants to see how much he can get him to say.

"She's… ridiculously hot, first of all," Dean answers without having to think. "Even with her glasses on and some old grandpa sweater, I could see she was a ten."

"A ten!?" Sam laughs. "In Boston?"

"I was just as shocked as you," Dean smirks and turns to look right at Sam. "She hides under her thrift store clothes but she's hot as hell. And talking to her… it was easy. And kinda nice. She's challenging. And calls me on my bullshit so I have to be real with her."

"That's… actually refreshing," Sam replies with surprise. "Most girls don't have the ability to deal with your bullshit."

"Ha-ha, bitch," Dean rolls his eyes and looks around the mess he made on the floor. "What the fuck am I gonna wear?"

"Where are you going?" Sam asks.

"She said she knew someone that works at Area Four and could get us in?" Dean says like it's a question. "So… there, I guess."

"Oh, dude. Pizza and comfort food. The place is nice but it's casual," Sam tells him, giving Dean a once over. A Zeppelin shirt that's fairly new and fits well, decent jeans, and socks with a hole in the big toe. "Grab your leather jacket, get some socks that don't look like they'll disintegrate on your feet, and boots… not the ratty sneakers you probably wore earlier."

Dean looks down at himself and then back up at Sam. "Yeah?"

"Definitely. It's who you are. Don't try and be someone else. I mean, she said yes to dinner after talking to the real you already. She clearly likes who you are… somehow."

"Fair enough!" Dean gets excited and runs to his bag in the living room. He's digging through it when he pauses, something dawning on him. Once he finds hole-free socks, he plops onto the couch to put them and his boots on. "Hey, uh… you mad about me ditching out on you?"

"Only if you like her more," Sam answers from the kitchen, grabbing a beer for himself now that he knows he'll be home alone all night.

"Aw, Sammy… I'll never like anyone more than you," Dean jokes. When Sam joins him on the couch on the other end, Dean looks him in the eye. "Seriously, though… you pissed? I'd get it if you were. I came here to see you."

"And you took a vacation for once," Sam reminds him. "I know how hard you work. I get it. Would it have been nice if you remembered your little brother that you actually flew on a plane to come and see before asking a girl on a date? Sure, but I get it. It's cool."

"What are you gonna do?"

"Hang here?" Sam wonders aloud, just now thinking about it. "Maybe call Garth, see if he wants to play video games or something."

Dean nods, feeling bad. "Dude, I can call her and bail. I shouldn't have…."

"Dean," Sam says in his sterner voice, the one that lets Dean know he should listen. It works. "Just go. I'll be fine. And your first vacation in ever shouldn't be all about me. Go have fun. I owe you that."

"You don't owe me jack. Don't be stupid," Dean corrects him immediately, not needing to get too touchy feely about it.

"The only reason I'm here, going to school…."

"Shut up, Sam," Dean tells him, needing to brush it off. Suddenly, an idea hits him. "Why didn't I think of this before!?" he nearly shouts and pulls out his phone from his back jeans pocket. He scrolls through numbers and presses send on the right one as quickly as he can.

"What are you doing?" Sam wonders, taking another sip of his beer.

"Making this right," Dean smiles, bringing the phone to his ear. He then looks up at Sam and lifts his eyebrows up once.

"Are you about to cancel? Because, I swear…."

"Relax, Sammy," Dean shakes his head and walks for the apartment bathroom. "I just had an idea and need to talk to someone about it." He smiles and responds when someone on the other end picks up. "Hey, Lizzy."

Dean listens as he opens the bathroom door, pausing in the doorway facing Sam with a shit eating grin.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam gets very nervous.

"I know, I just saw you and all, but… do you happen to have any cute single friends that want to come out on a double date tonight with my brother?" Dean's grin goes mischievously full wattage as she shuts and locks the bathroom door.

"Dean!" Sam panics and marches tot he door. "Dean! Don't!"

"Yeah, I'm visiting and I don't want to ditch him like that. And, any girl would be lucky to hang out with my brother. He's crazy smart, like free ride to Harvard smart, so someone that can hold their own would be good."

"Dean, come on!" Sam yells, pounding on the door a few times. "I don't want to go on some blind date!"

"Oh, way more polite than me! He even chews with his mouth closed," Dean laughs and Sam's stomach swoops with dread. "Hell, he's even a good looking dude if I can say so myself."

"Stop trying to sell me!' Sam bitches and bangs a few more times before marching for the kitchen.

"Uh… definitely taller than me…. Like, six-four. Maybe taller. Why?"

Sam hears Dean laughing as he makes his way back tot he bathroom door, a bamboo skewer in his hand.

"And she's how tall…? Oh my god, this is perfect! Can you get her to come? Awesome!"

"_Dean_!" Sam warns one last time as he pushes the skewer into the door knob hole to unlock it.

"Sounds great! Meet you guys in a little bit. Bye."

The bathroom door flies open, hitting the wall behind it as Dean ends the call. He looks up from his phone with an annoyed face. "What is your deal?" Dean exasperatedly asks.

"A fucking blind date, Dean? Really!?" Sam yells with upset.

"Jesus, Sammy! Get out of your bubble for _one_ night!" Dean pushes his little brother out of the way to leave the bathroom. "And look, if you guys don't get along, you can leave!"

"I don't like this, Dean."

"You don't say," he laughs at his little brother.

"You didn't even ask!"

"You would've said no!"

"Damn straight, I would've said no!"

"Why!?"

Sam blankly stares at his brother in the middle of the living room he followed Dean into. He has no ready answer.

"Serously, dude… what is the big deal about this? I know Lizzy won't set you up with some awful chick. She's gonna be cool, just like Lizzy. And I'll be there. I got your back. So what's the problem?"

"I…." He stops to think about the question. What is his problem after all? "I… feel weird,"Sam calmly says, completely deflated as he knows he has no way out of this already. Dean won't let him. "Jess left and I… feel weird about it. About myself. She told me I was a total dork and too invested in my schooling. I wasn't there for her."

"Well, you _are _a dork, aren't you?" Dean smirks, his voice lowered and playful now. "And fuck Jess. If she didn't like that you're gonna be rich and successful then I'm glad she won't be around to share your success. She doesn't deserve it."

Sam's face lightens a bit with that. "Good point."

"So, let's do this. Let's have fun, meet new people, get you outta this apartment."

Dean waits for an answer and never gets one. Sam just keeps looking at his shoes.

"You're nervous." Dean states it more than asks.

"No," Sam clearly lies, voice higher.

"Yes."

"Maybe," Sam shakes his head no. "I don't know. It's been a long time since I… went on a date or anything."

Dean smirks again. "Don't worry about it, brother. Like I said, I got your back. Now put something better on. Be presentable, for god's sake."

Sam looks down at himself and shrugs, knowing he looks fine.

"And we're grabbing a beer at that pub down the street before meeting up with Lizzy and her friend. We're leaving in five."

Sam rolls his eyes petulantly but heads for his room, all while muttering something about all his clothes being wrinkled now because Dean emptied his closet onto the floor.

Laughing at him quietly, Dean checks out the Guinness mirror sign on Sam's wall in his living room. His brother was right. T-shirt, jeans, leather jacket… looking good. Good enough to impress the hottie nerd he met today, hopefully.

One beer deep, Dean walks into Area Four right on time with Sam close behind him. He scans the small restaurant, spots Lizzy and waves. She grins wide at him, she appears very happy to see him, and he smiles back in what he thinks is the same bright, excited way. He heads for the table while checking out the blonde woman across from Lizzy. He turns his head back a touch and lets Sam know, "Dude, your date is hot."

"Great," Sam answers, no enthusiasm whatsoever. He's gotten increasingly anxious about this blind date thing as the night wore on. This was a bad idea. Things with Jess ended terribly and he's not sure he's completely over it. Maybe this is too fast. Maybe he should have stayed home. Maybe….

Dean moves out of the way and takes a seat next to whom he assumes is Lizzy. The second he moves, Sam gets a look at his date. His heart jumps into his throat when he sees her sitting there in her black, long sleeved t-shirt and form fitted jeans, her long blonde hair wavy and sunny, her bright blue eyes glued to him equal shock.

"It's you," Sam grins like a fool, relief washing over him. It's her. The girl from his New Year's kiss he hasn't been able to stop thinking about all day. The girl he resigned already to never seeing again. She's right in front of him.

"Oh my god!" she shouts with excitement.

"I, uh…" he tries to respond, maybe say something witty or even mundane, but his head is swimming with confusion and excitement.

The girl laughs at him. "What the hell are the chances!?"

"I'm, I'm… I'm kinda shocked, actually." He's smiling silly and staring at her.

"Oh my god, and you're as cute as I remembered! Sit down!" She pats the open seat next to her.

Sam sits as told, never letting his eyes wander from her. "How?"

"Luck, I think," she giggles a little and holds out her hand. "Lou Becker."

Shaking his head, Sam shakes her hand. "Sam Winchester. Nice to properly meet you."

"Uh, okay… so, you guys know each other I'm assuming?" Dean jumps in right there. "Classes or something?"

"We met last night," Sam grins, never looking away from Lou's blue eyes. "Well… kinda met?"

"Last night, I was hauling my drunken sister out of the bar when I ran into this tall, gorgeous, lost looking guy at the stroke of midnight. So, I walked right up to him and I kissed him." Lou shrugs, proud of that moment.

"What!?"Lizzy interrupts. She jerks a thumb at Sam. "This is _the guy_!?"

"Yeah," Lou huffs a laugh.

"What the absolute hell?" Lizzy laughs back.

"Yeah," Sam huffs a laugh of sheer disbelief. "I was at the right place at the right time, I guess."

"And I'm just happy I got my New Year's kiss before I left to take care of my lush over there," she nods at Lizzy before she looks back to Sam. "And it was one hell of a kiss."

Sam blushes furiously. "It was." He nods and squirms a little in his seat with the compliment.

"So… wait… this is just some weirdo coincidence right now?" Dean wonders aloud, looking at Lizzy.

"Guess so," she keeps laughing. "What were the chances, huh?"

"No idea…" Dean comments, head swimming with the oddness of the moment. It's too coincidental.

"Well, coincidence or whatever, I'm happy to see you again," Lou grins wide, resting a hand lightly on Sam's shoulder.

"Me too. Definitely," Sam mirrors her excitement.

"Oh, Lou's totally stoked right now," Lizzy calls her out. "She talked about you all morning."

"Shut up!" Lou gets defensive.

"Well, you did," Lizzy rebuts quickly.

"Oh my god, Lizard,shut up…."

* * *

"Okay, okay… so you convinced Sam he was adopted and then left for school?" Lizzy nearly chokes out as she laughs too hard. "You left your poor little brother to sit with the idea that his parents lied to him for four years as he sat at daycare all day!? You're absolutely evil!"

"Don't worry, he got me back years later," Dean points at his brother. "Don't let the hair fool you. He's actually really smart."

"What did you do?" Lou asks Sam, leaning a little towards him with interest, her elbow perches on the table filled with foodless plates and two empty wine bottles.

"Ah, a little Nair in his shampoo," Sam smirks. "The day before the prom."

Both girls burst out laughing.

"That's awful!" Lizzy giggles, running her hand through Dean's short hair. "It's such nice hair, too. What a shame."

"I had to buzz my hair off because of that," Dean adds in, smiling wide and having too much fun. "My date nearly screamed when I picked her up in the limo. Her mother was so pissed because she said I ruined her daughter's prom pictures."

"Over a head of hair!?" Lou asks, disbelieving. "That's shallow."

"No, no, no," Sam interrupts. "It was because under all that hair is a really weird shaped head. It was distracting. Ruined that girl's prom photos for sure."

"You have a weird shaped head?" Lizzy questions, looking over his dome. "No way."

"No, seriously… it's not great," Dean admits, taking a sip of wine.

"Doubt it," Lizzy says, reaching both hands into his hair and massaging his scalp, eyes closed. She feels around, mapping the shape.

Dean's eyes close too. Too much wine. This feels damn good.

"Yeah, okay," Lizzy takes her hands back. "That's a weird head."

Dean's eye blink open almost groggily. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome," Lizzy giggles, picking up the second bottle they bought. She shakes. "Uh-oh. Running on empty."

"I say we pay the bill and head out," Dean nods to Sam. "I promised not to have him out too late."

Sam shoots his brother a dirty look. Dean could easily tell Sam had fun tonight, really enjoying his time with Lou. Reservations before arriving aside, Sam's happy to be right where he is. "I'm having a good time."

"You sure?" Dean smirks, ribbing his brother.

"Shut up, Dean," Sam warns, trying to keep his cool in front of Lou despite his brother making him nuts.

"You were worried about coming?" Lou asks, placing a hand on the crook of his arm as he leans into the table with his elbows.

"Blind date," Sam states, shrugging. "You weren't?"

"Yeah, a little. I was expecting the worst… but I lucked out." She grins wide at him.

"Well, I'm not working tomorrow. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd love a cocktail before ending my night," Lizzy comments to the table before focusing solely on Dean. "You in?"

"Yes," Dean responds too quickly, making him sound like an eager puppy.

"Okay then!" Lizzy laughs at his enthusiasm as she reaches into her purse and gets her wallet.

"Oh! No way!" Dean waves her off. "You are _not _paying for this. I got it."

"No, that's okay…."

"It's not. I asked you to dinner. Let me pay."

Lizzy narrows her eyes at him. "Did you forget our whole first conversation this afternoon? That I'm sort of all about female independence and all that?"

"Yeah, I heard you loud and clear. Kinda made me a little turned on, actually," Dean smirks.

Lizzy's eyes widen. "Whoa! I thought you weren't looking for quickies."

"Doesn't mean I don't find you and your determined… and seriously dominant personality… totally hot."

Struck wordless, Lizzy can't help but smile a little despite trying not to.

"You like that, don't you," Dean cocks an eyebrow in a flirty way.

"Shut up," Lizzy fairly warns.

"You do!" Dean points at her accusingly with a shocked expression.

"Shut up!" Lizzy repeats and shoves him a little.

"Are you gonna let me pay or what?" Dean finally asks.

"Uh, guys?" Sam interrupts and they snap their focus onto him. "We already paid while you were bickering."

"What?" Dean sharply asks, brow wrinkled.

"Yeah. Lou and I split it," he informs them. "We would've been here all night if we didn't."

"So, where to now?" Dean asks the table. "I'm the out of towner. You all know better than me."

"I know a hole in the wall with cheap beers," Lou offers. "And a pool table."

"Done!" Dean hops out of his chair with true excitement. "Let's do this!"

"So, who digs wine out of a box?" Lou laughs as she unlocks her apartment door. "Because it's either that or some old, probably skunked High Life that's been around for too long."

"I can get fancy with it," Dean jokes as he follows the rest of the group in, shutting the door behind him. "Pinky out and all."

Lou tosses her coat onto an old secondhand wooden chair in the corn and heads for the kitchenette. The group follows suit and the brothers settle into the living area with Lizzy.

"My roommate is home for break," Lou tells them as she walks in, box in one hand and four, unmatched wine glasses in the other. "So, no worries. Place to ourselves."

As Lou pours, Lizzy suddenly gets up and heads to the old, worn cabinet with a tube television on it. She opens the doors to reveal a couple speakers and a turntable.

"Vinyl!?" Dean perks right up and turns to Lou as she pours wine into the glasses at the coffee table. "Respect!"

"Thanks! Lizzy scored the whole set at some yard sale a year back," Lou explains, staring at Lizzy with a sappy look. "She loves me."

"No idea why though… ah-ha!" Lizzy comments absently before getting excited. "Perfect." She pulls an album from the rows in the cabinet and places the record on the turntable. Soon the album begins and Lizzy returns to the coffee table, grinning.

"Nice choice," Dean comments, looking to his left. They apartment it truly bo-ho with it's all thrift finds and hippie-chic decor. There's one couch at the coffee table. The other seats are floor pillows in assorted patterns and colors. Lizzy takes one next to Dean, only inches left between them.

"Traffic fan?" Lizzy asks, delighted by his knowledge.

"If you like good music, you like Steve Winwood," Dean says.

"Even his newer stuff, right Dean?" Sam smirks as he picks up a glass of wine.

Lizzy pats Dean's shoulder comfortingly. "Is little brother trying to embarrass you?"

"Apparently," Dean scowls and stares daggers at his kin, getting sassy little grin in return.

"Well, he failed," Lizzy lets him know, leaning in closer. "Higher love is a jam."

"Right!?" Dean lights right back up.

"Absolutely," Lizzy shrugs, opening a drawer in the coffee table. "If you like music, you like _all _of Steve Winwood's stuff."

"Dude, don't," Lou complains to Lizzy when she see the bag of marijuana she's holding along with rolling papers and a lighter. "Last time you smoked Julie's stuff, she flipped."

"And I got her double to pay her back," Lizzy ignores the directive as she starts separating a bud onto the wooden surface. "And my shit is way better than hers."

"She's already pissed at me for forgetting last month's rent. Don't make it worse."

"I'll bring over some tomorrow, put it back into her stash, and she'll never know," Lizzy explains easily, no worries had. "You boys smoke?"

"It's been years," Dean shakes his head. "But I'm definitely down." He then raises a wine glass, sticks out his pinky, and takes a sip.

Lizzy laughs. "Sam?"

"No thanks," he shakes his head.

"Yeah, Sammy's not much of a druggie," Dean calls him out.

"Well that's good. Neither am I," Lou informs them, turning to face Sam Indian-style on the couch.

"A hippie that doesn't smoke weed?" Sam questions.

"You think I'm a hippie?" she wonders.

"Definitely," Sam grins.

"How'd you figure it out?"

"Well… you talked about the protests you've attended in the past few years at dinner. And about your super hippie mom. And this apartment is very flower child… along with the albums I could make out in the cabinet."

Lou smiles with pride. "I'm impressed. And you're right."

"She also plays acoustic and sings so, you know, she's the real deal," Lizzy tells them, still working on her project.

"That's pretty cool," Sam says kindly to her, heart flipping a little.

"Yeah, it is! Play something!" Dean jumps in with excitement. "You know any Zeppelin?"

"Maybe another time," Lou answers, growing timid with the prompting.

"Lou doesn't play for people she doesn't know well," Lizzy explains, licking the rolling paper and closing off the joint. "She gets weird."

"Stuff it. I just get nervous," Lou clarifies. "I pretty much only play for my mom since she taught me. And Lizzy."

"And she's damn good too," Lizzy comments with the joint held in her lips while lighting it. She takes a puff and exhales. "Her voice is amazing. She needs to grow balls and start performing because she could make some real cash while in college." She passes Dean the joint and he happily takes it.

"What if we promise not to laugh or tell anyone?" Dean tries one last time before taking a hit.

"No dice, dude," Lou denies.

Dean lets out a good cough as smoke rushes out of his lungs.

"Whoa! Dude, you said it's been a while," Lizzy laughs and rubs his back. "Maybe small hits, huh?"

Dean nods and keeps coughing for a bit. "Shit. It's like middle school all over again."

"Seriously, it's ridiculous," Lou comments as she sits with her legs tucked under her, knees pressed into Sam's thigh next to her. They're watching Dean and Lizzy sit on the floor amid a sea of old records and bags of pilfered snacks from the kitchen all while bickering about music.

"How much can Lizzy eat?" Sam asks as the woman opens yet another bag of chips.

"When she's high? A ton," Lou laughs at her friend's expense. "Her munchies are always way over the top. Once, I caught her making a grilled cheese with peanut butter and jelly... and blue cheese."

"That's not munchies. That's disgusting," Sam laughs.

"Yeah," Lou agrees, a smile on her face. "And what can I say? She ate it. To each their own, I guess." She looks at Sam, eyes showing her adoration for her friend even with Lizzy's less then stellar moment.

"You're really close," Sam more says than asks.

"Best friends since kindergarten."

"That long!?"

"Oh yeah," she nods. "We lived next door to each other, too. Our parents were great friends. She's like a sister, really. We did holidays and vacations together... everything."

Sam smiles and nods. "That's nice that you have that."

"Well, clearly you do, too," she says while glancing at Dean.

"Yeah, I do." Sam grins at his brother complaining about Lizzy loving Van Halen so much. Dean's having honest to god fun and it makes him so damn happy.

"Hey, uh... you wanna come to my room?" Lou offers, her eyes lingering in his lips for a moment. "We can get away from the childishness for a moment. Plus, I can play some better music."

"This isn't your album collection?" Sam asks, his stomach flipping over the invite. He's aware that he's stalling.

"Lizzy bought most of that. She just doesn't have room for it in her place. She calls it mine but I know the truth," Lou explains while getting up and grabbing Sam's hand. "Come on. My room is quieter." She gives him a reassuring and innocent smile as she pulls him to his feet.

Following her down the very short hallway and into a dark room, Lou let's his hand go to turn on a lamp on an end table next to her bed. The room is pure hippie, tapestries and all. The Christmas lights turn on and Sam can't help but feel comfortable in the soft lights and warm colors and patterns all over. Pillows everywhere, her comforter is even tie died.

"So, you really are a hippie," Sam smiles, eyeing the vintage concert posters from the sixties and seventies hung on the walls.

"Only in my heart," she smiles sweetly and sits on her bed. She grabs her iPod dock on the same old end table as the lamp and puts on some quiet music. "You know Sufjan Stevens?"

"No," Sam shakes his head no.

"Good. I get to give you that gift," she smirks. "Come here."

She waves him over and Sam freezes. Should he?

"Or not?" Lou questions. "I'm sorry if I read this wrong. I kinda thought we were clicking but if not, not biggie..."

"Oh, oh no!" Sam stutters when she starts to think the wrong thing. "No, we totally, uh... clicked. We have a lot in common and you're, I don't know... easy to talk to."

"Good," Lou nods. "But why won't you come over here?"

Sam nods, sorting his thoughts. He walks over to her bed and sits in the edge, one knee bent to face Lou and the other foot planted on the floor. "I'm... rusty."

"At sitting?" she teases.

"At... this," he points back and forth between the two of them. "I haven't even been on a real first date in years."

"Ooh," Lou sadly complains. "You just broke up with someone."

Sam gives her a confused look. "How'd you know?"

"Dude, the only way a smoking hot guy like you hasn't had a first date in years is because he was taken. So, what's wrong with the ex? She blind? Doesn't like good guys that are kind and sexy? And has dimples that are so damn cute it's stupid?"

Sam turns a tomato red with the compliments. "Um, I... ah..."

"And can't take a compliment."

"That was, like, ten compliments."

"Okay, so I went overboard," Lou brushes it off with a shrug. "It was all the truth."

Sam rolls his eyes. "You are right about one thing. I did just break up with someone."

"How long were you together?"

"Couple years."

"Ouch," Lou sympathizes and places a comforting hand on his knee.

"Yeah, she..." he pauses, knowing he's about to break first date rule number one. Don't talk about your ex. But he hasn't opened up to anyone about this and Lou seems kind under it all. "She told me she got into grad school in California. I was so excited for her and since I had planned to apply to law school at Stanford next year anyways I thought it was perfect. We could do a year long distance and then I'd move and we could live together out west. She had other plans. And wanted to see other people instead of fight for us. Since I was too dedicated to my degree and had no time for her anyways."

"Bitch," Lou name calls with fire.

Sam shrugs. "Long distance is hard. And I was… am… too focused"

"Yeah, but you do that for real love," Lou instantly rebuts.

Sam nods and looks away, unsure of how to respond. He thought the same thing.

"Look at it this way," Lou tries to flip it. "At least you found out it wasn't going to last now before you got married or something."

"I was shopping for rings," Sam confesses.

"Shiiiiit," Lou shakes her head with wide eyes. "She fucking blew it, man. You're a catch and she just walked away from that. You wanted to marry her in your early twenties! I now know you're insane for wanting to get hitched so early in life, but you're a good man. And super loyal." Lou sighs. "I don't know much about loyal men personally but I hear that once you get one, you hang on tight."

"Oh, that's... I'm sorry," Sam honestly tells her and places his hand over hers while turning a couple inches closer to her.

"A couple cheating ex-boyfriends and a chronic cheating asshole for a father will make that happen," Lou informs him, watching their hands as she grips onto his. "But hey, I'll find my knight someday,". Her blue eyes meet his and she grins almost shyly.

Sam smiles right back. "Well, that probably just smashed apart the first date rule-book completely."

"So true," Lou laughs and the tension from the heavy conversation just dissipates. "Well, if we are throwing out the proper first date rule book, is hooking up on the table then?"

Sams eyes blow wide with how forward she is.

"Chill," she laughs again. "We totally don't have to..."

Sam rushes forward and kisses her. Lou falls into it quickly, kissing him again when he tries to pull away from her.

When Sam sits back he gets shy again. "It can be on the table."

Lou grins wide with want as she gets up on her knees and takes his adorable face in her hands. They lock eyes. "Good. Because I think you could use it."

Sam laughs his agreement out.

"And... I really wasn't going to let you out that door without a little something," she lets him know, pressing their lips together. "You really are just too cute. And come on! You're my favorite height!"

"What are the chances?" Sam plays along.

"Slim when you're all about men that are eight feel tall," she jokes right back.

"Never made it to eight," Sam let's her know.

"Damn. Get out," she deadpans and points to the door.

Instead, Sam pulls her into his lap by her hips and wraps his arms around her so much smaller frame. "You gonna make me?"

"In the morning maybe," she lets him know before once more grabbing his face and kissing him, making him sure this was a great decision. And she doesn't let go for a long while, enjoying the luck she tripped over on the first day of the new year.

"Oh my god, you're so wrong!" Lizzy loudly laughs as she lays on the floor, eating an obscene amount of sour cream and onion chips while looking at the ceiling.

"No fucking way!" Dean rebuts equally loudly as he reaches into a bag of Cheetos and comes up empty. They ate them all. He ignores the issue for a second and rolls onto his side to face her. "Bohemian Rhapsody is the epic, quintessential song of its time."

"Sure, it was a massive hit and over played…."

"And it still is decades later!"

"BUT… it wasn't Queen's greatest song. Greatest hit, yes. Greatest song, not by a long shot."

"Alright, know-it-all, what is their greatest song then?" Dean challenges, stretching his neck to look at her.

"You want me to pick which of my children I love best!?" Lizzy asks with audacity.

"Queen songs are like your children?" Dean laughs at her conviction.

"You know what I mean," Lizzy narrows her eyes at him. "And the greatest Queen song ever is obviously Seven Seas of Rhye."

"Seriously?" Dean asks, not having been ready for that answer.

"Definitely," Lizzy nods as she gets up on her knees and crawls to the record cabinet. "It has everything. It's perfect."

Dean watches her find the album Seven Seas pf Rhye and expertly drop the needle onto the beginning of the song. She then winks at him and gets up, walking to the couch before flopping down onto it.

"Whoa," Dean gets confused when he watches Lizzy settle into the very empty couch. No Lou. No Sam. "Dude. Where's Sam?"

Lizzy gives him a look and laughs at him. "They've been gone for, like, a half hour."

"The hell did they go?" Dean asks as he sits up and looks around the apartment with confusion.

"Lou's room," she answers, nodding to the door around the corner.

Dean stares at her a moment, the information properly processing. He then slickly smiles. "Way to go, Sammy."

"Ha! Like he accomplished something," Lizzy scoffs. "Lou marked him dead hours ago. He was a dead man walking since our first bottle of wine."

Dean nods, appreciating Lou in the moment as he stands up from the floor. He walks over to the couch and lifts Lizzy's legs enough to sneak in under them. He sits with her calves in his lap and he can't stop grinning.

"Okay, I'm supposed to be super weirded out by your smiling like an idiot over your brother getting some, right?"

"I'm just... I'm happy for him," Dean explains. "He's been a loner for a while after his girl dumped him."

"That bitch," Lizzy smiles at him and pushes him in the side with one foot.

"No, really. She broke his heart. She's a bitch in my book for sure," Dean explains, the anger clear.

"Well, worry not. He's in very good hands."

"Good," Dean likes what he hears. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Lizzy questions with confusion.

"Do you have me in very good hands?" he asks her, wiggling his eyebrows.

Lizzy gives him a look in warning. "Now, here I was thinking that you were telling the truth today when we first met."

"I was!" he quickly and loudly defends.

"Yet now... you're just trying to get some ass before you go home in a few days," Lizzy calls him out with a lifted and accusatory eyebrow.

The reminder socks him in the gut. "Home. Right," Dean nods to himself sadly. "I guess I kinda forgot about that."

"I'm sure," Lizzy pokes fun.

"Honestly, I did," Dean tells the absolute truth. "I had a lot of fun and, I don't know, guess my brain didn't want to remember I had to leave."

Lizzy laughs a little. "Aw, did you go ahead and fall for me, Dean?"

Not sure how to answer that, Dean just stares at her a second. Wide, beautiful smile, bright eyes full of life and warmth, this woman is different and she made him forget everything. Life, work, school, Sammy's well-being, paying all the bills and debts, his father and everything that comes with that relationship... he forgot everything outside of having fun and connecting to someone for real. Not flirting and trying for a hookup, but a real connection that meant something to him.

So, instead of deal with all that, Dean ignores it all and changes the subject. "I just... I don't know. Maybe it's a habit. Like, muscle memory. Talk to a hot girl, try to get with that girl."

Lizzy narrows her eyes at him once again. "You really think that's what it was?"

Now he's uncomfortable. "You, uh... you like Zeppelin?"

Lizzy grins adoringly, knowing the truth behind his subject change. "Love them."

"Yeah?" Dean smiles so wide it hurts. He knew she'd say that but hearing it, and seeing that she so easily accepted the subject change for his sake, just makes him so damn happy.

"Who doesn't?" Lizzy asks, sliding over closer to him. She places his arm around her shoulders and leans her head into him.

"No one cool," Dean tells her, adjusting until they're both perfectly comfortable. "Favorite song?"

"Again, that's like asking me to choose which of my children I love the most."

"Pick a few."

"Okay... um... Achilles Last Stand is just awesome," she begins, thinking allowed. "That's probably my top rock out track. And I love Rain Song. So sad and beautiful. Misty Mountain Hop always makes he smile. Oh, but you know what their best blues track is?"

Not a second pause to think and Dean's answering. "Traveling Riverside Blues."

"Yes!" she excitedly agrees. "Fuck, that song is great. Best chill song ever. How'd you know I'd say that?"

"It's my favorite, tied with Ramblin' On."

"Their best hit of all their hits if you ask me," Lizzy nods.

"Oh, most definitely," Dean agrees, closing his eyes as he leans his head back against the couch. "Man, love me some Zeppelin."

"Me too…."

The toilet flushing is what makes Dean stir. He blinks a few times, a white ceiling all he can see, and he groans with pain the second he tries to lift his head.

"Hm?" he hears Lizzy wake and feels her sit up off his shoulder. She then hums with concern. "Oh… Dean, you slept like that all night?"

"Definitely regretting it right now," Dean comments.

"Okay, let me help," she offers as he feels a hand slide gently under his head and lift. She moves him slowly, kindly.

Once upright, Dean once more makes a sound of pain. "Ow."

"I can't believe we fell asleep like that," Lizzy laughs a little at their mistake. "And it's…." She looks at the clock on the wall. "A little after nine."

"Yeah, thank god someone flushed the toilet…." Dean starts to joke but stops when someone walks out of the bathroom door.

Sam takes about two steps as he runs a hand through his hair to clear it from his eyes. He then freezes, the feeling of being watched just too strong. His heads whips around to see two pairs of eyes staring at him with surprise on the couch of the apartment living room.

"Oh… uh, hey," Sam stutters, his hand coming to land over his crotch. He really should have thrown _all _of his clothes on when he got up this morning and ran to relieve himself. He's only in his boxer-briefs.

"Hey there," Lizzy exaggerates while making it obvious that she's checking him out. She meets Sam's eyes and winks.

"Yeah, uh… o-okay," Sam manages to say and books it down the short hall, disappearing into Lou's room again.

"Damn," Lizzy comments, looking back to Dean. "Did I pick the wrong one, because your little brother is kinda smoking hot."

Dean's straight face stares back at her.

"What? I was just joking," Lizzy laughs when Dean doesn't. "I'd still pick hanging out with you any day." She bats her eyes with her exaggerated declaration.

"Ha-ha," Dean deadpans. "Did my brother just get laid and I didn't?"

"Oh, definitely!" Lizzy happily concerns. "But you were looking for an adult, non-sex hangout with someone new so… good for Sammy-boy."

"Yeah," Dean nods absently.

"Good." Lizzy then cuddles back into his side, hugging his upper arm. "I had fun last night."

"Me, too," Dean agrees easily. "Haven't just chilled like that in… way, _way _too long."

"All work and no play," Lizzy warns of his current life. "When are you leaving to head back?"

"I have four more days. I wanted to stay longer but my garage needs me back."

"Garage?" Lizzy wonders.

"Uh, yeah. I work at a garage with my uncle. He owns the place so I can get a flexible schedule to go to school. Have to keep that college debt to a minimum."

"Ugh, I hear that," Lizzy remarks. "So, you work part time, go to school full time…"

"And I bar-tend three nights a week," he adds on.

Sitting up, Lizzy takes his hand into hers and weaves their fingers together. She looks at him with sincere, open eyes and tells him, "You can't live like that."

"Oh, I can't?" Dean scoffs. "I had no idea there was a choice."

"Dean, you're going to burn out before you can finish…."

"I'll be fine," he shoves the idea away before it can take root. "I always make it through."

"But how do you manage all that?" she asks, pure concern in her tone. No scolding, no judgement… but a whole heavy heap of worry.

"I… have no idea," Dean sadly laughs. "But… I do what I have to. I don't want to be in debit my whole life and Boston ain't cheap."

Lizzy pauses as he brain catches up. "Boston?"

"Yeah. Sammy's gotta eat, doesn't he?"

"Oh my god," Lizzy gets it. "You're paying for both your education _and _Sam's?"

"No! You kidding me?" Dean smiles. "That kid is so smart it's ridiculous. He's on a free ride with a boost from work-study."

"Then why are you so concerned about how expensive Boston is if you live in Kansas?" Lizzy has to wonder.

"I… I send Sam money, okay?" Dean admits with a little bit of shame mixed within his pride in his little brother. "Rent, utilities, food, life… that shit is no joke. I want him studying and getting his classes done, not working too hard to have time for classes."

"But… isn't that what you're doing?"

Dean looks down at their clasped hands. "Sammy's different."

"How?"

"He's fucking smart," Dean explains. "He's so smart and he's gonna change the world. The two of us, we haven't always had it easy. I gotta be there for him and I gotta make sure he's the damn superhero he's supposed to be."

Her heart heavy with both admiration and sadness for this pretty amazing man, Lizzy presses a hand to his cheek and tilts his head up to meet her eyes. They lock, they pause, and then Lizzy leans in. She presses her lips to his with reverence, trying to show him that she respects and adores who he is and what he's done with his life. She kisses him a little deeper when he doesn't deny her because she's in awe of him. She knew once they stared talking in the cafe that he was something different, and now she knows how right she was.

Lizzy pulls back a bit and meets his eyes again.

"You have morning breath," Dean tells her with a grin, quite happy with what just happened.

"So do you," Lizzy smiles back adoringly.

"It's gross."

"Wicked gross."

They then lean in like second nature, continuing on despite the nasty morning breath.

"Shit!"

The hushed yet harsh whisper is what pulls Lou out of a lovely, blissful sleep. She inhales, smelling the telltale scent of her room (incense mostly) and she smiles. "What's wrong?" she asks, eyes still closed as she knows instantly it's Sam in her room.

"I went to the bathroom and they saw me," Sam whispers as if what he tells her is scandalous.

"Mm-hm," Lou hums, pulling the comforter over her shoulder with the cold weather. "They still on the couch?" She saw them last night when she ran to the bathroom once they were done physically learning each other a little bit.

"Yes," Sam huffs.

"Okay… so, why is it you're freakin' out instead of spooning up behind me and falling back asleep?"

"I didn't get dressed!" Sam fires out, still hushing his tone.

Well, that will get her to open her eyes. Lou rolls over and gets an eye-full of a young man in his twenties that, despite being a straight A Harvard student, has a rocking body. He's in his boxer-briefs, hands on his hips as he paces a little.

"Lucky them, then," Lou comments, propping her head up in her hand, elbow dug into her pillow. "Mm. Good morning."

Sam stops moving about and looks at her. Knotted long blonde hair, a beautiful face fresh from sleep, her eyes not hiding behind eyeliner or mascara, and a sheet just barely keeping her chest hidden. She looks amazing. And his manhood thinks so too.

Lou laughs when she watches Sam's expression go from hungry to terrified, his hands coming to cover his growing dick.

"I must look way more awesome than I feel after that much wine last night!" Lou grins, eyeing his hands.

"Sorry… I just, it's been a while that I woke up with a naked woman. I, um… I just…."

"Oh," Lou nods. "You're a morning sex kinda guy."

Sam opens his mouth but doesn't speak right away, unsure of how to respond. Fuck it. She's direct, honest, and to the point. He should be to. "Definitely."

"What if I tell you I'm a morning sex kinda gal?"

"I'd say I'm missing my ex a whole lot less now," Sam admits, dropping his hands and displaying his hard on proudly.

"Fuuuuuck!" Lou lets out with an unstoppable grin as she lays back in bed, a hand to her forehead with shock. She almost forgot how big he was. "You're too much, man!"

Sam laughs at her as he pulls the comforter and sheet back to climb in, an arm instantly around her waist. He pulls her easily on top of him, her legs straddling his hips. She presses her palms to his firm chest as he grabs her thighs, looking up at her bright blue irises. "How am I too much?"

Lou licks her lips, eyeing his form. "Okay, so… if you put all my favorite things about men into a blender… you'd pop out. I mean, everything about you…." She pauses and locks eyes with him. She runs her fingers through his hair and holds to either side of his head. She kisses his forehead. "Even your incredible brain. I mean, I have never met a dude that could quote both Twain and Dhal without even thinking."

"They just happened to be two of my favorites, is all," Sam assures her.

"Don't downplay it. You're super smart."

Sam just gets uncomfortable, glancing away with pink cheeks.

"You are! And… you also have a huge dick. I love huge dicks. Some women can't handle it but, mm! Love it!"

With that Lou sends him a bright grin, pulls the sheets over her head and ducks down. She slinks down his body quickly and within seconds has his dick out of his boxer-briefs.

"Oh… mm, oh my god," Sam says, not having been ready at all for that turn of events. Her warm mouth makes his heart hammer the second he feels it.

"Okay, so… this totally made up for the, uh, _loud _morning," Dean comments as he finishes his bit. "This place is awesome."

Peering around, Sam adds in, "Eclectic."

"Definitely, but this food is completely nuts," Dean leans back with a hand to his stomach. "I just ate eggs Benedict made with freaking meatloaf for breakfast."

"Yeah, we all know," Sam jokes, throwing his balled up and used napkin at his brother.

When it hits him, Dean doesn't even flinch. "You can't ruin this perfect mood with your childish ways, Samuel."

Sam laughs. "His heart is in his stomach," he lets Lizzy know.

"I can see that," she pats Dean's stomach. "You always eat like this?"

"I have a healthy appetite," Dean shrugs it off while glancing at her plate. "And so do you, by the way. You finished that whole thing!?"

"I don't treat myself like this too often," Lizzy explains. "And plus, grits and fried chicken leftovers? Just not the same."

"Screw that, you eat like a beast," Lou accuses, pushing away her omelet that's not finished yet. "Never understood how you could eat like that."

"Well, I think I've maybe met my match then," Lizzy giggles and picks up her mimosa. "To new friends."

"Ugh!" Dean rolls his eyes.

"You're so fucking lame!" Lou calls her best friend out.

"Oh, come on! We had an awesome night. And morning. Can't we celebrate that?" Lizzy complains to the apparently too cool table.

"Sure… by meeting up again tonight," Dean suggests. He looks around the group. "We good with that?"

"Uh… actually," Sam starts, knowing he's about to catch hell. "Lou and I kinda… we have a date tonight. Just us."

"No shit," Dean awes. "You actually like him?" he asks and points to his brother.

"I… yeah. I think I really do," Lou tells him, trying to contain her massive smile. When she peeks to her side where Sam is sitting next to her in the booth, the grin breaks out. He smiling like a dope too.

"Wait a minute!" Dean finally pieces together. "_You're _ditching _me_!?"

"It's one night," Sam brushes it off.

"I don't have many left in Boston, Sammy," Dean warns.

Sam nods, already feeling the guilt. He's ready to break his plans when Lizzy saves him.

"Well, I mean… I could maybe… hang out with you tonight," Lizzy suggests, leaning a shoulder into his side playfully. "Keep you from getting too lonely."

"Yeah?" Dean smirks with excitement.

"Yeah. Come over to my place at six. Ill make dinner and we can… chill."

"Chill?" Dean narrows his eyes.

Lizzy's go wide as she telepathically tries to tell him yes, she means more than chill. She did her first date, no hooking up. But now… well, now she really, really likes him.

Dean looks to Lou and Sam. "Have fun tonight, kids!"


End file.
